Sky
by Heather Giesbrecht
Summary: The moths whirled around them, darkening the snowy sky, near so graceful as herself and Thomas. Thomas/Lucille. Complete.


_Author's Note:_ Of course, we don't when exactly Lucille's birthday is, but I'm making it November 17th.

* * *

 **Sky**

 _July 15th, 1870_

The sun was a weak warmth on Lucille's back as she giggled and poked a sleeping beetle. Mentally, and with great pride, she repeated its name to herself: _Carabus violaceus_. How she would have loved to see it hunt at night. The warmth disappeared as a shadow loomed before a wrinkled hand jerked her upright.

Mama's horrid, withered face glowered down at her. "Whatever do you think you are doing ? That is an insect, you disgusting child ! We do not touch such filth, it is unbecoming of a lady."

Lucille protested, "It is not filthy, Mama, it's shiny."

Smack ! "Quiet, you do not talk back to your elders."

A whimper wanted to leave her lips, but she repressed it merely nodding instead. Mama dragged her into the house, into the lift and they ascended to the nursery.

Mama hobbled past Thomas's crib to strong-arm her onto her bed. Cough, cough, wheeze before Mama hissed, "Neither of you are getting food tonight." then left them alone.

When the lift had stopped again she got off her bed, went to her wardrobe then opened it. She crouched to pull out a brown leather water skin and a bundle of cheese and bread wrapped in a crimson handkerchief emblazoned with the Sharpe coat of arms. Theresa had smuggled it up earlier as she'd known Mama was having more of a temper than normal.

Thomas cowered and squalled as the house groaned. Immediately, she put the food and water down on her bed to go to the crib and peer through the bars. Those dark blue eyes were so big in his tiny face, so pretty, so helpless. "Thomas, Thomas, come here, come to Lucille."

He got up, smiling broadly as he toddled to her so that she could pick him up. She murmured, "You're not going hungry little brother, not while I'm here." pressing a kiss to the curly haired forehead.

Effervescent giggles and, "Luce, Luce, dance, dance !" while he wrapped his arms around her neck. So, holding him close she led them in what little dance she knew.

* * *

 _November 17th, 1899_

The moths whirled around them, darkening the snowy sky, near so graceful as herself and Thomas. He led her into the promenade before they both laughed watching the moths swarm toward the candle. Simultaneously, they leaned in to blow it out and after the moths cleared he cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly.

Thomas murmured, "Happy 33rd birthday, Lucille." against her lips.

Lucille smiled slightly, "Thank you." then tilted her head to look up. "Thomas, do you think they ever try flying to it ?"

His brows furrowed as he followed her gaze to the full moon which shone down upon them. "It is the brightest light in the nighttime sky, it makes sense that they would try at least. Come now dear sister I have a present for you."

She let him guide her into the house, put the candle down on the table, took off her gloves, brushed the snow from her cloak and untied it to hang it up. He pulled off his gloves and sapphire overcoat to hang his coat beside hers.

In a stern tone Thomas said, "Wait in the library, no following." before he ascended the stairs toward their bedroom.

With a brief head shake and chuckle, she meandered into the library. The fire crackled cheerily in the hearth as she turned toward the library's second landing where Mama's portrait hung. Sweet as over sugared tea she asked, "Are you having a nice death, Mama ? I hope not. I hope you are stuck here watching everything that Thomas and I do. I know I'm enjoying your being gone...you spiteful old hag."

Thomas tsked, "Do you really want to let her ruin this birthday too ?"

Warm arms wrapped around her waist and she leaned against him with a sigh of, "No."

He presented the box to her then opened it, "What do you think ?"

Unconsciously, she gasped, "Oh Thomas !" The locket was made of fine gold and set into its face was an onyx moth. Its eyes were garnets whilst the whorls and patterns were smaller rubies.

Soft lips brushed against the shell of her ear, "I thought you could also wear this the next time we went to a ball."

Like Mama was protesting it the house groaned and the fire flared.

Her own response was, "I am and I'm going to love wearing it." before letting him put it on her. "You know I almost thought I smelled something in the oven this afternoon. What were you doing ?"

Embarrassed laughter smothered against her neck. "I was, ahem, uh...I was burning a cake." The last words were rushed through so fast that she could barely decipher them.

Gently, she teased, "Aw, how sweet of you or should I say, how burnt ?"

Thomas's cheeks would be flushing, "Hey ! I tried did I not ?"

"You did and it is more than most brothers would do. Shall we go try some anyway ?"

As they found out the bottom of the cake was quite burnt, but it was otherwise delicious. Though that might've had something to do with Thomas's feeding it to her as well. What with the moonlit waltz, her new locket, and Thomas's baking attempt it was not a birthday that she would forget anytime soon.


End file.
